Mind Games: Eleven and the RedHaired Stranger
by Absolutely-Elsewhere
Summary: The Doctor, in pursuit of a possible surviving Time Lady, is drawn into a complicated struggle that can result in the destruction of the Universe. In the midst of all this is a Red-Haired Stranger, racing against time to save herself and the man she loves
1. Gimme Shelter

Chapter One: Gimme Shelter

It's been said by many that one is the loneliest number of all. No one knew that better than the Doctor. After he married River Song and left Amy and Rory, he'd been travelling across the universe, all alone in the TARDIS. He wanted them to forget about him; he didn't want to make their lives worse… it would be better for them to just forget him. He noticed, though, that without them, there wasn't much to do. Perhaps it was time for the Doctor to take a proper holiday?

Jumping to his feet and trying to take his mind off of his old friends, the Doctor adjusted his bowtie and began thinking up places to go on holiday. There were so many lovely places in the universe to visit, and given the Doctor's brashness, he'd visit them all before the next call for help.

Mid-pace, though, there was a knock on the door. The Doctor paused and gave the doors of the TARDIS a funny look. They were in deep space, and there was a knock on the door! The last time there was a knock on the door in deep space, he got mail… mail! _How exciting!_ He put on a wide grin and jumped to the door.

Then he stopped again. He remembered what else had happened the last time he got mail… it served to remind him he was the last of the Time Lords.

_Well, whatever. I'll just have to keep calm and carry on._

Once he opened the doors, there it was! A psychic box, a Time Lord psychic box! With an emergency message?

"Ahh, what have we here?" the Doctor asked, grabbing onto the box before it went wild as it did the last time. "A box! A Time Lord, with an emergency? Hah!"

To the Doctor, the impossible was always a possibility, as long as he was alive. Just the slight possibility that one Time Lord was out there… he decided to open the unmarked psychic box.

"The Dark Side of the Universe is still light," said the box, with the clear, distinct voice of a woman.

The Doctor's grin widened. If there was a Time Lord out there, it was a woman. She wasn't distressed…

"…then why did she use the psychic box?" the Doctor wondered out loud. "Well… perhaps this was the only safe way of contacting me… Geronimo! _But this isn't possible..._ is there a way to respond?"

There were a couple of ways to respond to a psychic box… psychic paper was one way, and it was the Doctor's response of choice. In a whirl, he ran to where the typewriter was and pulled some paper from a drawer in that part of the console. The Doctor had to be careful in response, not knowing who exactly the woman was and if it was good that she was contacting him or not.

_Then how dark,_ he wrote, _is the Dark Side?_

To get this message to its proper location, the Doctor had to be careful. Extremely careful. So he used his sonic screwdriver, tracking where the box came from, to bring the note to where it belonged. He stuffed the paper inside the box and sent it on its way, hopefully to return soon.

Who was this Time Lord, this woman, telling him that the Dark Side was "still light?" What did she mean? Was she being literal, or was she using symbolism? The message was rather a positive one… positivity! Another thought dawned on him. What if it was sarcastic?

_Knock, knock!_

The Doctor widened his eyes. That was fast, even for a master of Time and Space. This _Time Lady _was an extremely curious case.

He opened the box and took this new sheet of psychic paper out and read these words: _Never as dark as you think. The dark is perceptional._

The Time Lady had to be alive. _She replied to what I said! _

"…_exactly_ what I said!" the Doctor smiled, and put his pen to paper again.

_Then would the Dark Side be light?_

Once again, he sent the box out. This was impossible… but how sweetly impossible! This Time Lady couldn't have been one of the baddies… she was so positive! Maybe she was waiting on the Time Lord to come and find her… maybe she was lost and staying positive to keep hope alive… maybe she wanted to see if anyone was out there… so many possibilities with this new discovery…

_Knock, knock!_

The Doctor leapt out of his chair once again to retrieve the message.

_The light always overcomes the dark. There's a rainbow after every storm._

"Geronimo!" he exclaimed excitedly. "She must be lovely! She must be beautiful! Oh, what a beautifully positive mind! What a beauty!"

_Yes. But a storm always comes…_

He wanted to see her reaction to negativity, because the baddies feed off negativity. He needed to know… and soon enough the box was again on its way.

She could've been tricking him, and he wanted to make sure that wasn't the case. He also wanted to find her, but how to do it!

"How would I word that," the Doctor wondered, "without breaking this oh so witty banter? I quite enjoy this actually… if this is the case, then I must find her! I must find this Time Lady, wherever she may be!"

_Knock, knock!_

Yet again the Doctor picked up the box and read the note.

_That's why we have umbrellas and shelters. Come to Miranlon. Meet a new friend. Don't worry, you won't need an umbrella. _

"Finally, a location!" the Doctor exclaimed, jumping to his feet and running to the console.

The Doctor didn't need to think of how to break the banter, for the Time Lady did it for him. And now he could meet her… or at least a new friend. Maybe this new friend could lead him to the Time Lady, for he needed to meet her. He didn't yet know her, but he was absolutely enthralled. Perhaps in love. He couldn't tell; he needed to see her. But from what he could tell, she was a beautiful personality, so positive! He needed positivity.

_Look in the sky for clouds. I'll break through them eventually, and I'll be the storm. You'll need an umbrella._

That was the last note to go out, and the Doctor began to locate Miranlon. Miranlon was 2,000 light years from where Gallifrey was, and it was a beautiful planet. The Doctor had never actually been to Miranlon, for he'd only heard stories. It was small, extremely small, which is probably the reason he never stopped there. Nothing major ever happened there either. Either way, the Doctor was happy he was finally going.

_Knock, knock!_

There was one more box to open. The Doctor quickly ran to open it, as the TARDIS was leaving.

_Your new friend prefers shelter. Umbrellas are too mainstream for this one. _

The Doctor smiled, and was once again off and on his way to a new planet to meet a new friend. The Doctor liked meeting new friends; indeed friends were a positive.

When the TARDIS landed on Miranlon, it was late in the afternoon; the binary suns were low and the temperature was at exactly 20̊ Celsius. The skies were an unbelievable salmon, and the grass was of gold. The surrounding trees were vivid red maple trees, and there was a large palace that was straight ahead.

The Doctor smiled. Miranlon was lovely! He couldn't possibly imagine what was keeping him from this lovely place.

"Doctor!" the voice of a woman came from behind him.

_Could that be my Time Lady?_ The Doctor wondered to himself as he turned around.

She was sitting in one of the maple trees, wearing dark black tights and ankle boots of the same colour. She had a dark blue cape and her hair was tied in a bun. Smiling, the woman hopped out of the tree and landed right in front of him.

"Who're you?" he asked her, hoping it indeed _was_ his Time Lady.

"I'm your new friend, Doctor. But I'm afraid I don't have an umbrella," she smiled.

"No, but that's all right," the Doctor laughed. "You have shelter."


	2. Jennifer Juniper

_Mind Games_

The Doctor and the Red-Haired Stranger: One

**Jennifer Juniper**

_2643 years later…_

Deep within the vast, far away galaxy of Mortran is the most violent place for light years: Tantoinne. The metropolitan planet Tantoinne was infamous for its crime, sin, and gambling, the walls of the buildings were littered with "wanted" posters that bore the faces of the most dangerous criminals in the entire universe. These criminals, who were guilty of the most horrific of crimes as murder and rape, could be found anywhere on this planet, underground in the casinos and bars. They could hide anywhere. Tantoinne was the Wild West of Mortran.

Most of the posters with the mark "Most Wanted" bore the face of a tiny brunette humanoid called Maeve Donovan. Crime? Theft. Defraud. Weapons? Generally unarmed, except for a glowing pen that made strange noises. Vehicle considered a weapon by some. Vehicle? A bright red English triple-telephone booth with Union Jack panels. Accomplices? Two brunette humans. Usually seen wearing? A black fedora, a blue cape. Reward? Three million credits.

The blue-haired human laughed upon picking up one of these Maeve Donovan posters. She folded it neatly and put it in her pocket for safekeeping when she walked through the doors of Jennifer Juniper. Situated in downtown Tantoinne, Jennifer Juniper was just another smoke-filled casino that attracted the wealthy pleasure-seekers and the criminals pretending to be wealthy pleasure-seekers.

Upon entering, the blue-haired human coughed several times, not used to being surrounded by that much smoke. She looked around, and just in the nick of time she found what she came to find: the lady in black with the flaming orange hair.

She found the Red-Haired Stranger.

The Red-Haired Stranger had summonsed her blue-haired companion to Jennifer Juniper only a few minutes ago, and she arrived by way of a cheap, nasty form of time travel called the London Doorway. The London Doorway is controlled by buttons on a simple pocket watch, invented by the Red-Haired Stranger herself. When the blue-haired human got the message to come, she knew he friend was distressed, and her appearance did not contradict this. The Red-Haired Stranger staggered around, an inscrutable deadpan expression on her face, clutching at her side. She needed help, and her blue-haired companion ran to give it to her.

Upon seeing her companion, the Red-Haired Stranger's face lit up. She threw the arm that wasn't clutching at her side around her companion's shoulders for support.

"What's wrong? Are you hurt?" the blue-haired human asked.

"I've been shot," the Red-Haired Stranger panted, "but I'll be fine. Quickly, we need to find the captain of the _Zephyr 14_. He has exactly what I need and I have exactly what he needs."

"Ok."

"He's a ginger. Looks like a Viking. He 'as a beard and long hair, and his name is Lanz."

"Ok, now shut up 'cos you've been shot! Are you sure you're all right?"

"Bullets are not the boss of me. Let's find Lanz. This is urgent."

The blue-haired human sighed and dragged her desperate friend to the very back of the casino. A few heads turned, but the pair of them ignored them and kept pushing forward, looking round for Lanz. Lanz was a jewel thief and smuggler, and if anyone had what the Red-Haired stranger needed it was him. The only downside, and the Red-Haired stranger knew this well, was that Lanz knew her, and that he was bold enough to say her real name out loud at any given time. That might get her arrested, burned at the stake or some form of alien execution, for many a vengeful man gathered in the casino were cheated by her. However, it was imperative she took the risk; time and space depended on it.

The orange-haired jewel thief was sitting in a corner of the casino, at a baccarat table with a blonde woman who, the Red-Haired Stranger recognized as another jewel thief incognito. When the Red-Haired Stranger and her blue-haired companion were within ten feet of the table, Lanz looked up and smirked.

"Stranger!" he laughed mock-heartily. "What brings you over to the Dark Side?"

The Red-Haired Stranger immediately straightened up and smiled. She and Lanz had a complicated relationship; either they were pulling each other's heads off or they were helping the other smuggle themselves out of a dire situation. The Red-Haired Stranger knew better than to let her guard down around Lanz.

"Hello, _darling,_" she said, putting a hand on her hip and the other on the table. "Kar Morulo in exchange for Rus Madrino. Now."

Lanz lowered his chin and fixed her with a look.

"And why is that?"

"None of your damn business. I just have the Kar Morulo and I wanna know if you want a tradeoff. So how about it?"

"No."

"Yes."

"No.

"And why not?"

"Because, _Stranger_…" Lanz stopped to smile a cocky smile. "I don't _have_ it!"

"And _why not?"_ The Red-Haired Stranger was angry.

"I sold it."

Her face fell.

"You didn't."

"Ahh… but I did!"

"You didn't!"

The jewel thief laughed.

"You're in luck, my dear. I just sold it five minutes ago."

"To _whom_?"

"A guy in a suit."

The Red-Haired Stranger slammed her fist on the baccarat table.

"Thanks bastard!" the Red-Haired Stranger said and stormed off, her companion following closely behind her.

There had to be a million and three guys in suits at Jennifer Juniper. What was worse was that Lanz didn't even specify a race. She had to do this all on her own, and quickly, too. It would be hard; her would was getting bigger and her staggering was getting more erratic. There was a lot to risk, a lot to lose; the Red-Haired Stranger, under no circumstance, could fail.


	3. Hello, I Love You

Chapter Three: Hello, I Love You

"YOU! YOU GET BACK HERE THIS INSTANT!"

"Make me!" the young woman shouted back at the extortionist, laughing and flinging open the door of the telephone booth, "Ye _can't_ catch me! Ye just can't!"

With a final smug _hah!,_ the woman locked herself in the telephone booth and sat down. She picked up the phone and turned the dial a couple of times. Suddenly, the lights dimmed and the woman smiled once again. She put the phone back, and the wall rotated into a door. The woman stood up and opened the door, and stepped inside. Up the stairs she ran, and to the console, where she pulled a magic lever and _whoosh!_ Off went the woman in the magic box!

The woman took off her dark blue cape and hung it on the hook, along with her brown fedora. This box, this magic box, was her home. With a slight sniff of the air, she was happy. She was home.

In her hands, she held a magic pen. In her magic pen was a magic substance, a magic mortar substance that didn't flow out as you might expect. It broke down into a molecular gas that immediately hardens on impact.

"Ahh, got to love Gallifreyan technology!" the woman smiled, and put the pen in a cup on the console.

Just then, the telephone rang. The woman hopped up over to the phone, which was on the other side of this centred, cylindrical console.

"This is Nine-Oh Wubbleyoo Doubleyoo," the woman answered with a grin, looking over at the mortar pen, "Madame Mortar speaking!"

"Madame Mortar? You ridiculous, silly little girl!" the woman on the other line laughed. "It's Andrea Camille."

"Ahh, Andrea Camille!" _Madame Mortar_ exclaimed, jumping down from the platform surrounding the console, then realising there was a cord attached to the phone and jumping back up. "What can I do for you, Your Highness?"

"We need you home, Maeve. You've been away for a while, and Drossamer and I need you back here," Andrea Camille explained with a solemn tone of voice.

Maeve frowned and sat down on a chair near the platform's railing. Some things were terribly _very not right._ Andrea Camille wanted her _home._ The magic box was her home, and she was being called to _Andrea Camille's_ home. Miranlon was also Maeve's "home" she understood, as she'd been living there for hundreds of years, but she left for a reason. Andrea Camille knew that she left for a reason. It must've been serious, the Miranlonian Queen deduced, and she knew enough to give Maeve space to go travelling whenever she wants to or needs to.

"What's going on?" Maeve asked, both concerned for her "family" and bothered by the disturbance.

Andrea Camille sighed audibly.

"I think something's going on in the Underground. Things reappear, disappear, and the ground is sinking. I don't want to alert the Capitol; I wanna see what you have to say first. Nothing like this occurred in history, I checked!"

"Hmm," the other pondered, "I'll get there ASAP. See you in a few."

Maeve put down the phone and picked up her sonic screwdriver from a cup on the console. The Underground? Sinking, disappearing? It was strange, she wouldn't doubt that. She could vouch for the fact that there'd been nothing like it for the hundreds of years she lived there. She could never recall anything being wrong with the Underground. But she had an idea of what it might've been, and if it was anything like what she was beginning to think it was, she'd have to go to extreme measures to figure everything out and how to solve it—_Very_ extreme measures.

When a red telephone booth appeared magically right amongst the grove of red-orange maple trees in the courtyard of the Miranlonian palace, Andrea Camille knew that help had arrived. A light breeze swept over the shaded Caris-Moiselle River as the door of the telephone booth opened and Maeve stepped out in her cape with her dark chocolate-coloured hair tied in a neat bun. She shut the door to the telephone booth and strolled over to the Miranlonian Queen.

"Nice day, isn't it?" Maeve smiled as the Queen greeted her with a hug. "Where's me mate Drossamer?"

"It's a lovely day, Maeve," Andrea Camille smiled. "And King Drossamer is at a meeting now, so he'll join us later. Are you ready to go to the Underground?"

Maeve nodded but then paused.

"Lemme get some stuff from the Contraption Thingy first," Maeve said and turned to walk back to the telephone booth.

The Queen stopped her.

"Don't you mean your Time and Relative Dimension in Space?" Andrea Camille teased her mate and Maeve laughed.

_"Contraption Thingy!"_ Maeve laughed and skipped into the Contraption Thingy.

There was only a couple seconds' hiatus between Maeve's retreating into her Contraption Thingy and her returning with a small suitcase, just as Andrea Camille suspected. Maeve wasn't like other Miranlonians. Unlike the one-step-at-a-time, conservative Miranlonians, she was capricious and eccentric; and she was _fast_.

"You _did_ have clothes in the wardrobe, Maeve," Andrea Camille rolled her eyes.

"Ahh, but I went shopping!" Maeve grinned a devilish grin. "I found some old Gallifreyan wear, a psychic box… cool stuff. Very cool."

The gates to the Underground were sealed shut in the room of the palace that was furthest from the front. It had to be kept that way, so the Underground Evils couldn't reach the outside world. Miranlon was beautiful, and all else—thunderstorms, earthquakes, and fire—was trapped underneath the surface in the Underground. Maeve didn't like that one bit, for some of that "evil" was actually good, but nevertheless she said nothing.

Standard dress for going into the Underground was a plastic mac, wellington boots and a rainproof hat. It was dark and damp in the Underground, and a lantern was usually required to see anything. Only the Royals and some military personnel were allowed in the Underground, because it was feared a civilian would let out the Evils. Maeve was the only "civilian" allowed.

When Andrea Camille opened the doors, a mist filled that back room of the palace, and the rainproof duo ventured down the stairs, sealing the door behind them. Maeve lit a torch, and into the Underground they walked.

For a few moments there was only silence, and Andrea Camille was the first to break it.

"You're very quiet, Maeve. What, do you think there are Daleks down here?" Andrea Camille laughed.

Maeve laughed uneasily.

"Daleks! How silly!" she exclaimed, and kept walking.

There were two ways into the Underground. Only one way as far as Andrea Camille was concerned, but another way was discovered by King Drossamer. His wife and their friend Maeve were bound to be down there at that point, as Andrea Camille had told him they would, but Drossamer couldn't find the Contraption Thingy.

_Usually she leaves it in the courtyard,_ Drossamer pondered, _where could she have parked it?_

The King shrugged as he opened a small hatch under one of the sycamore trees in the grove behind the palace. He jumped down and sealed the hatch, and looked around. The path lead to where Andrea Camille had wanted to investigate with Maeve, and according to his configurations, they were to show up where he was standing in just a minute.

Or twenty seconds. Maeve was fast.

"Drossamer!" Maeve exclaimed as she saw Drossamer standing by the hatch twenty feet away.

"Maeve!" Drossamer exclaimed and greeted her with a hug. "Welcome back to the Underground."

"Where are the Evils at?" Maeve frowned, realising they hadn't seen a single flame appear out of nowhere, or a crack in the floor. The Evils had a proclivity for appearing, reappearing, and disappearing as they were all trapped and trying to break free.

"Who knows?" Drossamer laughed a hearty laugh.

"Well," Andrea Camille cut in, laughing, "Maeve was so quiet before, I'm happy you showed up and broke that silence!"

"Why were you quiet?" Drossamer asked.

"No reason," Maeve frowned. "Let's keep moving."

It was just as she suspected. At the end of the trail was a bolted metal door, and Maeve pulled out her sonic screwdriver to scan the inside without opening the door. She waved it around for a couple of seconds, almost in an eccentric manner.

"Ahh, just as I suspected!" Maeve exclaimed, examining her screwdriver.

"What is it?" Drossamer inquired.

"Stuff, Drossamer. Desperate times call for desperate measures!"

Whatever it was Maeve had discovered, Drossamer and Andrea Camille thought she looked rather excited. However, they also knew excitement covered up anger, fear, and sadness with Maeve.

"What do you mean?" Andrea Camille asked.

"I'm going to need a _Time Lord._"

"A Time Lord! But they're extinct!" Drossamer exclaimed.

Maeve rolled her eyes.

"No worries, Drossamer. Trust me."

And that's exactly what Drossamer couldn't do. There were many reasons he couldn't trust Maeve Donovan.

_As far as I remember, this Time Lord responds only to positivity,_ Maeve thought to herself, sitting down at the writing desk in her room.

Maeve had known the Time Lord when she was very young, probably when she was 140, but she had remembered _that_ about him. He was always so positive, and from what she heard, throughout all of his regenerations. Now she was almost as old as he, and she bet that he was _still_ positive in that age, 1103.

She opened a desk drawer and pulled out a psychic box she had stored there for ages. The Time Lord probably got all sorts of distress calls, but she needed to stand out, for this was urgent. Maeve was certain he'd respond.

A blue police box appeared in the courtyard late that golden afternoon. The shaded Caris-Moiselle was a light, delicate pink, with trees on the banks of a fiery red colour, swaying in the breeze that danced along the water. Immediately, Maeve knew who it was.

An eccentric-looking man staggered out of the police box, dressed in a olive greatcoat, rolled up trousers, and a white shirt with a bowtie. He smiled, and staggered around, observing the wonder that was Miranlon.

"Doctor!" Maeve shouted, hopping out of the tree and landing right in front of him.

"Who're you?" the Doctor asked, though Maeve could tell he had an idea of who she was.

"I'm your new friend, Doctor. But I'm afraid I don't have an umbrella," she smiled, alluding to the psychic paper conversation.

"No, but that's all right," the Doctor laughed. "You have shelter."

Maeve laughed, and once again looked back at the police box, which she remembered was his TARDIS. He landed it right in the courtyard, next to Maeve's Contraption Thingy. Or at least next to where she _thought_ she landed it…

"NO! Where is it?" Maeve exclaimed, shoving her way past the Doctor and over to where she recalled her Contraption Thingy was parked.

"Where is _what?"_ the Doctor asked, watching her feel around the open air like a madwoman. "And what is your name?"

"The name's Donovan, Maeve Donovan," she exclaimed frantically, "and I lost my Contraption Thingy! And I _can't_ believe I just noticed this!"

"Contraption Thingy?" the Doctor asked. "What do you mean, Contraption Thingy?"

"Red telephone booth from 1962, England. It's a type-40 TARDIS, and it's GONE!"

"A TARDIS? Type-40?"

Maeve, with widened eyes and a frustrated grin, slowly turned her head to look at the Doctor.

"Forgive me, I failed to explain the situation. Things disappear, reappear, and the ground is sinking. I have a feeling there are Daleks and black holes and other spacy-wacy, timey-wimey nonsense involved in this, and now they have a TARDIS!"

The Doctor's eyes widened.

"This is extremely very not good!" Maeve exclaimed, collapsing against the side of the Doctor's TARDIS.

The Doctor nodded. Daleks, black holes, disappearing TARDISes… it _was_ extremely very not good.


End file.
